The Swan and the Stag
by Aniah
Summary: A warped faerie tale, not to be confused with a "fractured faerie tale"
1. Default Chapter

The Swan and the Stag

A BSSM Fanfiction based on the classic faerie tales _Swan Lake_ and_ The Swan Princess_

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Aniah

AniaHope@aol.com

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I LIKE the BMC. Don't hurt me because Mamoru's the bad guy, please?

Disclaimers: I own nothing but my mind and what lurks therein.

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            In a primeval European forest dwelt wizards, witches, enchanted creatures, and unreachable treasures. On the outskirts of this woodland were illusions and traps; no mortal human was to set foot there. This is where our story takes place.

            It is twilight, the time when birds land and deer emerge from their hidden keeps. The predators are on alert, and the sound of bullfrogs' calls permeates the cool air. A flock of mute swans spirals down to land on the shores of a marshy lake. The waves are but ripples, and the birds forage for watercress and other delicacies among the reeds. It grows dark, for a moment. Suddenly, the autumnal harvest moon rises above the black treeline, bathing the lake in unnatural light. Taking a breath, all the swans close their almond-shaped eyes, and strange powers envelop them in water.

            They emerge as graceful, confident women, each different from the next. Some have hair the color of the lake, some are blonde, others brunette, and one hair of coal. They wear virginal while gowns, belted with gold chain that also crowns their hair in a circlet. The leader, hair done in elegant pigtails, motions her fellows onto the grassy shore, where they dance their appreciation of the moon.

            They stop, suddenly. Pounding hoofbeats, a thunder of antlers, and dappled brown coats belong to these beings. They are a herd of deer, strangely composed of a full-racked stag, two inexperienced bucks, and one solitary doe. Pawing and snorting, the stag bellows, and pulls up a cloud of dust.

            When the dirt clears, a man of pristine white hair, two boys with red and blue hair, and a young woman of green locks stare back at the maidens. Their fists are clenched, and the white one's violet cape swirls in the breeze.

            It's a standoff.  The maidens surrounded their queen, posing in fighting stance, with feral grins on their face. They may have more on their side, but the deer have powers that they do not.  Holding a slender hand up, the swan princess raises an eyebrow at the stag. With a leap and a bound she has dived into the lake, leaving her friends behind.

            A smart move. The Stag's element is on flat ground, not the water. Still, he is quite capable. Removing his cape, he dives in after her, leaving his compatriots to their own play. He strokes out stealthily, but she feels him coming. She swims faster, and reaches the other side of the marsh.

            She wrings her gown out, and sits on a rock, primly waiting for the sorcerer. Breathing hard, he stands in front of her. Growling, he pulls her back into the water, and a brief wrestle ensues, as the distant swan-girls and warlocks look on avidly. On a closer examination, it seems that the stag is bussing the swan unrelentlessly, and she is returning the kiss. With a sigh of relief, the bystanders return to their grazing.

            The two leaders step out of the water, and move into the forest. The stag brings his willing captive to a dense copse, where they love. After a time, they are content, and fall asleep under the protective canopy of the enchanted forest.

            Us mortals would think it odd to find a fully grown stag next to a perfect mute swan, but in the Black Forest it is not an unusual sight. When the sun rises, that is exactly the case. The swans take off, the deer disappear, and another day begins.

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Fluffy, idn't it?


	2. The Wolves and the Swans

The Wolves and the Swans 

A BSSM Fanfiction 

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 Aniah

 AniaHope@aol.com

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A continuation.

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In a primeval European forest dwelt wizards, witches, enchanted creatures, and unreachable treasures. On the outskirts of this woodland were illusions and traps; no mortal human was to set foot there. This is where our story takes place.

 It is the moonless night of the month. Dejectedly, the swan-maidens flow down into their home marsh, and they pick woefully at their water- plants. No animals will transform tonight; it is dangerous. Many predators would never try for a human, but a female swan, with no mate? It might constitute some effort, but it would be well worth the expended energy.

A wolf howls, and his brothers answer him. The pack is on the move. As with the deer of the enchanted forest, the constitution of this wolf family is supremely marred. An alpha male, black with a ruff of silver belly, keeps his brother wolves in order. There is one that is silver, with a shaggy coat, and a similarly shaggy tawny male, as well. There is an unremarkable brown-furred male, and another with a sunny coat. They are a bachelor pack. 

The swans gather, beating their wings, and waiting for the inevitable wolves' approach. The black one growls, and submissively the Princess of the Swans floats to the shore. She glides primly behind the alpha, shepherded by the others if she lags behind. They reach a cave. It is quite a sight, seeing a swan waddle. The black wolf lays down, and she curls herself next to him. 

The four others sprawl about the cave entrance, prohibiting interference. The night is silent, and everyone dozes. For the next moon the swan will flit between her friends and the wolves, and will transform at the pond. The wolves' apparition as men is not so dramatic; they shake themselves, and emerge as warriors, the black one always leading the way. 

Such is the lifestyle of the wolves and the swans.

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	3. The Hunt

The Hunt

A BSSM Fanfiction

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Aniah

AniaHope@aol.com

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A finale.

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            In a primeval European forest dwelt wizards, witches, enchanted creatures, and unreachable treasures. On the outskirts of this woodland were illusions and traps; no mortal human was to set foot there. This is where our story takes place.

            It was the full moon, and the swans could _feel_ it. Their feathers throbbed and they rustled their wings restlessly, wanting to be eons away from the Black Forest and its' other inhabitants. The pearl sheen on the water could show even the fish-folk shadows as they cowered under overhangs and shied away from the swans' splashing. The Princess of the Swans transforms at a whim, and wades to the smoothness of shore.

            Her maids follow sedately, holding foxtail roots to bind their hair away from their faces. She waves them away, wishing to be alone. The musk of wolf is nigh, and the deer approach from the opposite direction, surly pulling their prized salt lick on a travois. The thing hinders them, and the wolves share a feral laugh.

            The Princess chides them with her body, her rigid stance showing how strongly she disapproves. The wolves show their teeth, blaming the deer. The deer paw, and with a clack of hooves they transform. 

             Alpha wolf raises himself gracefully to meet the sorcerer, a sneer marring his cold, swarthy face. The sorcerer nods an apology to his lady, raises a finger to test the wind, and snaps it to his thumb. The other wolves take human form, wearing gray uniforms lined in elemental colors. The two juvenile deer pull their antler knives to hand, ignoring each other coolly as they check their weapons.

            Alpha mocks the sorcerer, the keeper of the Black Forest, and bares his teeth. The swan maidens clap their hands in unarranged cadence, urging the men into frenzy. With a hoarse laugh and a flash of raspberry light the duel of the full moon has begun. 

            The Princess coos with dismay; swans are birds that mate for life, and every moon there is a different order to things. She wishes the sorcerer would _stop!_ Somehow, her words transfer to the mage, and he immediately throws his hands down, sensing a better alternative to battle.

            Swans' clapping grows louder, and each woman voices her opinion in a trill: _go with the stag, _or _go with the wolf!_ But she will not be subjugated! With a glissando only birds could understand the princess releases her plan, and they are air-born before fully transformed.

            Mamoru shakes his ruff, growling at the massive stag as his four compatriots stand stiff-legged behind him, watching the Princess fly past the moon, almost camouflaging herself and her guard within its glimmer. Dejectedly, he sits on his haunches and begins to mourn his sorrow by baying sky-high.

            Dimando grins evenly, knowing that with a snap of his hooves-now-fingers he can know where his true queen dwells. With a calculated gleam in his midnight eyes he motions his subordinates away, leaving his captive enemies on the shore of the pearly lake.

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Took me long enough. Please R&R


End file.
